


ATTHS: On the Roof

by BigBlue82



Series: ATTHS: Fight the Future [1]
Category: The X-Files
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, F/M, Movie: The X-Files: Fight the Future (1998), Semi-Public Sex
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-05-16
Updated: 2020-05-16
Packaged: 2021-03-03 00:48:15
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,437
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24216169
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/BigBlue82/pseuds/BigBlue82
Summary: A reimagining of missed opportunities for Mulder and Scully to get it on in Fight the Future.
Relationships: Fox Mulder/Dana Scully
Series: ATTHS: Fight the Future [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1747873
Comments: 6
Kudos: 67





	ATTHS: On the Roof

**Author's Note:**

> I had the idea for this story after I listened to The X-Cast podcast FTF Minute 14 in which Tony and Cortlan speculate about Mulder having snacks and watching porn on the roof while Scully does all the work. Thanks for the inspiration, y'all!

Scully hit the auto-dial on her cell phone as she exited out onto the roof. Sunlight blinded her and she wished she’d thought to bring her sunglasses. Sweat tickled the back of her neck as it rolled down between her shoulder blades. The phone rang four times and she didn’t bother waiting for a greeting when she heard the line connect.

“Mulder, it’s me,” she told him. A helicopter swooped in to land on the building across the street. She longed for the cool air of the chopper blades.

“Where are you, Scully?” his voice was loud in her ear, but barely loud enough to be heard over the dull roar in the background. She wondered the same about him.

“I’m on the roof,” she replied. There was no point trying to hide her irritability. It wasn’t even 10 a.m. yet and the heat index had already broken triple digits.

“Did you find something?” His casual tone made her wonder if it was a rhetorical question. He was good at those. Sometimes she had the patience for his winding Socratic journeys, but not today.

“No. I haven’t.”

“What’s wrong?” 

She wandered around the roof, checking under machinery, looking for anything that might stand out, trying to notice what didn’t belong.  _ One of these things is not like the other _ , she sang inside her head. The heat really was starting to get to her. 

“I’ve just climbed twelve floors.” She had to shout to be heard over the loud machinery and it felt good to let her ire out. “I’m hot. I’m thirsty. And to be honest, I’m wondering what I’m doing up here.”

“You’re looking for a bomb,” he reminded her.

“Yes. I know that. But the threat was called in to the Federal building across the street.” She glanced over again at the helicopter making its exit from the roof, wishing she was on it, swooping her way out of this hellscape to a place with calm, cool waves, and an icy pink drink with a little umbrella in it.

“I think they have that covered,” he said.  _ No shit Sherlock _ , she was tempted to bite back. But, she recognized the droll undertone to his words, along with the echo of the helicopter on his end of the line, and she launched into her own diatribe, if only to give back as good as she was getting. 

“Mulder. . . when a terrorist bomb threat is called in, the rational purpose of providing that information is to allow us to find the bomb. The rational object of terrorism is to promote terror.” She parroted back the manual to him, even though she knew he knew it verbatim. He had a degree in psychology from Oxford, and a photographic memory for chrissakes. “If you’d study the statistics, you’d find a model behavioral pattern for virtually every case where a threat has turned up an explosive device. If we don’t act in accordance with that data—if you ignore it as we have done—the chances are great that if there actually is a bomb, we might not find it. Lives could be lost—”

Scully lost the will to continue on, and checked the connection on the phone to make sure he hadn’t gotten bored and hung up on her. It had happened before.

“Boom.” Mulder’s voice came not from the phone, but from right beside her.

“Jesus, Mulder!” Scully swung around to find him leaning against the wall in a narrow passageway between two enclosed machinery rooms.

“What ever happened to playing a hunch?” His hair flopped down over his sweat covered forehead. The heat inside her body moved from the back of her neck down to a low place in her belly. She studied the lanky tilt of his body, and the casual way his ankles crossed one over the other as he flicked a sunflower shell away.

She gaped. “You’re having a snack?”

They both tucked their cell phones away.

“Among other things.” He tossed a rolled up magazine to her, and the pages fluttered out as she caught it. Glossy images of naked women fanned out in her hands.

“Why am I not surprised.”

“Do you really think so little of me, Scully?” He pressed his palm to the center of his chest. “That hurts. It’s not my fault the maintenance guy forgot his reading material.”

“I resent your presumption that a maintenance worker is automatically male.” Scully tossed the magazine back at his face. He ducked and grinned. Her knees nearly buckled. She was such a sucker for that smile. It was brighter than the sunshine beating down on them.

“Forgive me for banking on statistical probability.” He tucked another shell between his teeth and cracked it. At the same time she found herself wishing he’d nibble on her neck like that instead of a damned sunflower seed. His hazel eyes flashed with mischief and she knew she was in trouble.

“What are we doing up here, Scully?” The shell flew away. “It’s hotter than hell.”

“You tell me, Mulder.” She canted her head, taking a few slow steps toward him. “You’re the one who suggested we come over here. I can’t help but wonder if you might have had an alternate agenda.”

“Alternate agenda?” He balked. “Who, me? What kind of alternate agenda could I possibly have to get you somewhere alone?”

He snagged her hand and yanked her into the shelter of the narrow passageway. It was barely big enough for both of them to fit, and he towered over her, one hand on the wall over her head.

“Mulder. We can’t—” She tried to protest, just for the record, but his lips fell on hers, and all thought and reason was lost. She moaned and opened her mouth to his tongue, delighting in the salty taste of the sunflower seeds.

Scully fumbled for his pants, undoing them with shaking hands. It was risky, sure, but they were supposed to be across the street. No one even knew they were here. He was already halfway there anyway thanks to that stupid magazine, and when she wrapped her hand around his cock, he hardened right away.

“You know how long I’ve wanted to fuck you on a roof?” He leaned over, nibbling at her neck, making her wish from moments ago come true. She squeezed him harder and calculated how long it had been since he’d called and told her to get over there.

“About twenty minutes?”

He lifted his head and gave her a deadpan look. Now it was her turn to grin.

“Shut up, and fuck me already.” She let go and unbuttoned her blazer, revealing the silk camisole beneath. 

The narrow wall proved to be just the right distance to brace herself as he entered her. Forget the umbrella drink, his hardened length filling her to the brim was exactly the stress-relief she needed right then. And they already had an excellent explanation for being rumpled and sweaty.

It was perfect. 

It was all perfect. Nothing mattered when he was inside her like this. Not the fact they were off the X-Files. Not the fact their talents for investigation into the strange and paranormal were being wasted on this ridiculous wild-goose chase. Not the fact they were basically the laughingstock of the Bureau.

They had each other. That’s all they needed. It’s all she wanted anymore. What difference did it make if the lines between the job and Mulder had blurred so much that they were non-existent anymore?

Scully bit back a shout as her insides tightened around his length. Not that that mattered either up here. But technically they were supposed to be working.

“Oh, God.” She gasped. He kissed her again, and she sailed away. She wasn’t even on the roof anymore. Wasn’t even in Dallas anymore. Not even on Earth anymore. Mulder took her to places she’d never even been able to dream up.

He grunted, and went rigid, hands clamped tight on her arms, using the wall to keep them both upright. One last kiss to her forehead, and then he eased her back to her feet.

Mulder’s shoulders heaved and his throat bobbed. “Talk about an explosion, huh?”

Scully attempted a laugh, but it came out breathless and weak, just the way she felt. Instead, she opted for a nudge, and he grinned again. 

“Come on, Mulder. Let’s go find a drink.”

With everything tucked, and buttoned, and smoothed back into place, they headed for the door. 

“Think we could sneak off to Houston?” he wondered. “I hear it’s free beer night at the Astrodome.”


End file.
